Sunset Beach on the north coast of Oahu Island had become the most renowned spot for tube-shaped waves. Every year, countless tourists flocked here, either to capture their presence in this iconic place, attempt the legendary tube waves, or to show off and pretend to be a Stanley Kubrick of the sunset beach scene, as if pretending to have deep knowledge.
Therefore, for many true experts, Sunset Beach had lost its appeal. Following the coastline towards the north, one could find three or four secluded beaches that offered undisturbed privacy. Nonetheless, for commercial competitions, this was an ideal venue.
Surfing competitions typically began around 8 or 9 in the morning, lasting until 3 in the afternoon. This was due to the fact that the weather could become unpredictable and the waves dangerous in the late afternoon. Additionally, time needed to be allocated for waiting for suitable waves. Since not every wave was surfable, competitors had to wait. Hence, each participant was given thirty minutes of waiting time, along with breaks, resulting in a long competition duration.
When Renly and his group arrived at Sunset Beach, it was already past 10. All the parking spots nearby were full. Andrew, who was designated as the driver for the day, had to circle around for a while before finally finding a spot under distant palm trees. After parking the car successfully, the three of them ambled towards the competition area.
Hawaii's coastal highway was both spacious and narrow, winding along the shoreline, adorned with breathtaking views. Occasionally, one could catch glimpses of grand scenes with cliffs and solitary lighthouses. Gradually, the cacophony of the crowd shattered the serenity beneath the palm trees, and even the air became restless.
At this moment, at least seven to eight hundred people had gathered on the beach. The golden-brown pebbles were slightly coarse but not uncomfortable to walk on barefoot. The bustling crowd engaged in lively conversations and laughter. Women in bikinis moved freely to and fro, reveling in the rare, brilliant sunlight. A two-story observation deck stood beside the street, hosting commentators and guest speakers. Their explanations reverberated through speakers in the air, introducing the participants, the state of the waves, and the wind direction.
"We should come here at night," Andrew remarked with enthusiasm, observing the bustling scene before them. "Occasionally, they hold parties here with bonfires, bikinis, surfboards, and whiskey. If you're lucky, you might even get to try some skinny-dipping."
Paul looked at Andrew in surprise. "Here? The waves at night aren't small. If you're not careful, you won't be able to come back." Paul was an avid surfing enthusiast and knew Oahu Island inside out. He had never heard of midnight parties at Sunset Beach.
However, Renly was unwavering in his belief, smiling as he said, "Trust me, if he says it's there, then it's definitely there. What you're seeing now is a nocturnal creature."
Facing Renly's teasing, Andrew nodded with a smile, expressing gratitude and accepting such a "compliment". "It's precisely because of the danger that it's even more thrilling. Those willing to join are true adventurers. That's why these parties are fun. Carefree and unrestrained, no boundaries."
Paul was taken aback, his eyes shifting to Renly in disbelief. He saw Renly nodding with a cheerful smile, giving a confirming answer. This made Paul cast a perplexed glance at Andrew. Who on earth was this guy?
Finding a spot to sit on the sand, Paul took the binoculars hanging around his neck and handed them to Renly, who gazed towards the distant sea. Without binoculars, the surfers in action looked only slightly bigger than peanuts. One could vaguely observe their interaction with the waves, but the specific details of the surfing activities were unclear.
At this point, the first round of preliminary heats was still ongoing. The competitors' strength was already formidable, confirming that the North Shore was not a place for amateur surfers to easily challenge. Guided by Paul's commentary, Renly gained a new understanding of surfing.
"I heard you faced some setbacks recently," Andrew shifted the binoculars away from the surfers waiting for waves, focusing on two bikini-clad girls chasing each other by the beach, and casually remarked.
Having just put down the binoculars, Renly was momentarily stunned upon hearing Andrew's words. He racked his brain, recalling, "What setback did I face?"
Andrew set down the binoculars and glanced at Renly. Then he aimed the binoculars back to his eyes. "Rumor has it that during the audition process for a commercial film, you competed with a friend, using some unsavory methods. In the end, you still lost."
The corner of Renly's eyebrow lifted, forming a playful smile. This rumor was indeed quite amusing. His voice couldn't help but rise in excitement, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he said, "So that's what happened?"
Andrew shrugged. "I know it sounds absurd. But that's what I've heard. So, I was thinking, maybe someone did something nasty behind your back."
Andrew and Renly had grown up together. Renly was mischievous, always coming up with odd ideas that were hard to resist. However, he was also upright and disdainful of underhanded tactics. Even if he refused to admit it, a sense of aristocratic pride still ran in his veins.
Renly smiled and pursed his lips. "This is Hollywood, filled with lies and betrayals. I'm not going to be as surprised as you are."
"Much like London," Andrew chimed in, causing Renly to pause. A playful glint appeared in his eyes, and both of them chuckled lightly, as if they had returned to their high school days.
If Renly guessed correctly, this rumor was likely about "Thor", the movie he had been involved in. However, this kind of rumor couldn't have come from Chris himself. It was probably spread by Chris's manager and public relations team as a preemptive measure. Did that mean "Thor" had finished filming too?
"Where did you hear these rumors from? I thought you weren't interested in Hollywood." Andy hadn't told Renly about this rumor. Perhaps Andy had handled it himself, or maybe the news hadn't spread yet. There was no immediate threat, so journalists wouldn't catch Renly off guard. That's why Andy wasn't in a hurry.
Whatever the reason, it was quite strange that Andrew knew such news.
Andrew lightly tugged the corner of his mouth. "Indeed, I'm not interested, but that doesn't mean they won't come knocking on my door."
Although Andrew might appear as a carefree playboy on the surface, in reality, he was the owner of Dalmore whisky from the Scottish Highlands. It was one of the finest whisky brands in the world and also one of the most expensive. Just like those top-tier wines, Dalmore whisky was not only meant for tasting but also for collecting, especially for the upper-class individuals aspiring to be part of the aristocracy.
As a country lacking a historical and cultural legacy, the United States has always admired the royal cultures of England and France. This is a significant reason why the titles of nobility bestowed by the British Queen each year carry such strong allure. Therefore, one can imagine the appeal of Dalmore whisky, a top-tier treasure circulated among the aristocracy, to the elite figures of Hollywood.
Renly chuckled softly. "Does Dalmore really need the Hollywood market?"
Dalmore was a high-end whisky brand with a well-established user base, so they didn't need to expand their market. This was also one of the reasons why Andrew was so at ease.
"No, it doesn't," Andrew said mercilessly. "However, we occasionally host private parties in Hollywood. You know, like when the queen bestows titles and honors, inviting a bunch of upper-class individuals who yearn to be connected to the aristocracy, to spend a boring evening."
"At least it's more fun than London parties," Renly's quip resonated with Andrew, who nodded repeatedly.
"If you need help, just ask anytime." Andrew said smoothly, sensing the meaningful look Renly cast his way. He couldn't help but add, "I know you might not need it, but you have my phone number."
Renly could feel Andrew's goodwill. Different from the superficiality between aristocrats, even though the statement was simple and seemingly casual, the sincerity in his eyes was beyond doubt. Perhaps many things had changed, but some things had remained the same.
"No, I don't know your phone number." Renly's unconventional reply made Andrew turn his head, looking at Renly with a puzzled expression. After a few seconds of hesitation, he couldn't hold back and burst into laughter.
Of course, that was a joke.
They had lost contact for several years and hadn't used the phone to communicate. Generally, nobles rarely changed their phone numbers because most of them had two phone numbers—one for regular social use and one for close friends. There was simply no need to change phone numbers.
Renly's jest was just a way of saying that they hadn't been in touch for so long that the other person might have changed their phone number. That was also possible. "Then you should contact my butler," Andrew replied earnestly, his response seemingly absurdly polite and courteous amid the beach, ocean, and bikinis.
Just as Renly was about to reply, his peripheral vision caught a peculiar figure in the crowd. This figure was sitting about fifteen steps diagonally ahead. He wore a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, flip-flops, and a large straw hat. He had a large camera with a telephoto lens hanging around his neck.
Such a figure wasn't uncommon on the beach, as many professional photographers were capturing the surfing competition. There were also plenty of amateur photography enthusiasts with well-equipped gear. The scene resembled a battlefield of cameras and lenses, rivaling the movies in grandeur.
However, the person in question had turned around twice, aiming the camera lens directly at him. Or was it just his imagination?